Chapter 380

“Graaaagh!”

Jeffrey, still impaled by the spear, flew backward with tremendous force.

Crash!

The sheer strength behind the throw sent him slamming into the wall, where he remained pinned.

“Grrrrk!”

Yet even this wasn’t enough to kill him. His glowing red eyes shone with rage as he let out a guttural, beastly roar.

“Graaaagh!”

With a violent burst of strength, Jeffrey shattered the spear lodged in his body and dropped to the ground.

Rozaline spun around, startled, to see who had thrown the spear. The figure clicked his tongue and stepped forward to shield her.

“Tsk, I figured it’d be like this here too.”

“Count!”

“How have you been?”

Walking leisurely toward her was none other than Count Ghislain.

The scene was straight out of a storybook: the noble lady saved by the gallant hero at the last possible moment. It was a trope Rozaline had often read about in her youth, as had many noblewomen. Tales of valiant knights slaying evil beasts and pledging loyalty to their beloved princess.

For a brief moment, Rozaline felt like she was living one of those stories. Her voice wavered as her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Count Fenris!”

“Why are your eyes like that? Did you get an eye infection?”

“......”

This man, Rozaline thought, clearly had no concept of romance. She swallowed her frustration, took a deep breath, and asked,

“How did you get here?”

“I ran.”

“No, I mean, how did you know to come here?”

“There are creatures like that causing havoc all over the capital right now.”

Rozaline froze. If what he said was true, then every target the loyalist faction had attacked must be facing similar monsters.

It confirmed that Ghislain’s warnings about the Ducal faction’s covert operations had been accurate.

Ghislain turned to her with a calm smile.

“In any case, I’m glad I arrived in time. When I heard what was happening, I came here immediately. Those things can catch people off guard; they’re surprisingly durable.”

“S-So... you came here first... to save me?”

With his usual carefree grin, Ghislain nodded.

“Of course. In the capital, you’re the first person I’d think to save.”

Rozaline’s heart skipped a beat.

“Count... you...”

Thump!

Her heart raced as her face flushed crimson. To think that he prioritized her over the other nobles of the capital—it felt like a scene from a fairy tale, where she was the princess being rescued by her knight.

“Could it be that you... have feelings for me...?”

Ghislain’s grin widened.

“Well, considering you handle the finances and sales of our cosmetics trade, it’s only natural. I can’t even imagine the chaos if you weren’t around. All that money would just disappear. Terrifying thought.”

This bastard! Can he talk about anything besides money?!

Rozaline’s face contorted in frustration. Of course, he only cared about the profits she managed. Her moment of foolishly romantic misunderstanding made her seethe with anger.

“Why are you making that face? Are you feeling unwell? Ah, but first, we need to deal with that thing. I’ve got other places to check on, so let’s wrap this up quickly.”

Still as casual as ever, Ghislain strolled toward Jeffrey.

The Marquis’s soldiers, having heard of Ghislain’s reputation, instinctively parted to make way for him.

“Graaaagh!”

Jeffrey, now more enraged than ever, roared and lunged at Ghislain with terrifying speed.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Swinging his blade with the speed of a master knight, Jeffrey unleashed a flurry of attacks. But Ghislain sidestepped each strike with effortless grace, as if observing him rather than fighting back.

“Graaaagh!”

Frustrated by his inability to land a hit, Jeffrey bellowed in fury, his attacks growing more reckless.

Ghislain muttered under his breath as he analyzed the monster.

“Hm, definitely weaker than Harold was.”

Compared to Harold’s transformation, Jeffrey’s speed and precision were significantly lacking. It seemed the extent of the power gained through the transformation varied depending on the individual’s base strength.

“But the madness is the same,” Ghislain noted.

Jeffrey was no longer human—merely a rampaging beast driven by a singular desire to kill. Without a target, he would likely turn to indiscriminate slaughter, much like Vanessa had in the past.

The streets were filled with the shouts of soldiers giving orders.

While many of the creatures had already been subdued, a few had managed to elude capture, leaving a trail of destruction as they attacked indiscriminately.

Though the capital’s knights were far superior to those of most fiefdoms, the suddenness of the attacks had caught them off guard in areas where their numbers were insufficient.

Meanwhile, Ghislain surveyed the chaos from the rooftops, swiftly identifying the remaining monsters. Thankfully, most had already been dealt with, leaving only a manageable few.

With a flick of his hand, crimson lances of magical energy materialized around him.

“Go.”

Boom!

A tremendous explosion erupted as a magical lance pierced a monster’s skull, killing it instantly.

Moving nimbly between buildings, Ghislain continued to dispatch the creatures with deadly precision.

“Count Fenris is here!”

“The Master of the North has arrived!”

“Hooray! It’s the Saint!”

The sight of Ghislain in action raised the spirits of the knights and soldiers, while fleeing civilians stopped in their tracks to cheer.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

One by one, the monsters fell, their heads obliterated by the magical lances.

Although new creatures seemed to emerge from the shadows, the capital’s defenders were not easily overwhelmed.

“Kill them all immediately!”

The commanding voice of Tolleo, captain of the Marquis’s knights, rang out as he cut down a monster with a single strike. High-ranking knights and mages from noble houses joined the effort, quickly turning the tide.

Even some of the monsters were captured alive, their resistance crushed by the capital’s overwhelming forces.

Watching the scene unfold, Ghislain smirked.

“Seriously, why gather all the strong ones here in the capital? What a waste.”

The capital’s concentration of elite forces was understandable, given its status as the kingdom’s heart. However, Ghislain couldn’t help but feel it was a missed opportunity.

“If only we could send them all to the front lines to clash head-on with the Ducal faction.”

As the situation stabilized, Ghislain prepared to leave.

“I should head to the next target,” he muttered.

Though he had taken the initiative to minimize casualties, the presence of skilled defenders meant the capital’s safety was assured. Now it was time to address threats in areas where intervention was more critical.

The Temple of Juana

Ghislain made his way to the Temple of Juana, where a man surrounded by armed guards awaited him.

“How have you been, Bishop Porisco?”

“Ah, Count Fenris. You’ve arrived.”

Bishop Porisco, flanked by an imposing entourage of temple knights, greeted him nervously.

Lately, the bishop’s reputation as a rumored "Saint" had forced him into a life of virtue. While he wasn’t thrilled about the constraints, he didn’t entirely dislike the fame it brought.

With his position as the next archbishop all but guaranteed, he had little desire to stir up trouble unnecessarily.

Approaching Ghislain cautiously, Porisco whispered,

“Are you sure... we can actually attack them?”

“Yes, I’ve confirmed it. Those people are all agents of the Ducal faction.”

“This won’t damage my reputation, will it?”

“If anything, it’ll bolster it.”

“Alright then, I trust you. Let’s do this.”

“Don’t trust me—trust your faith. You’re the capital’s foremost cleric, chosen by the goddess herself. It’s your duty to guide the ignorant masses.”

“R-right, of course. Who else but me?”

Nodding vigorously, Porisco took a deep breath and bellowed,

“If I don’t descend into hell, who will?! Today, I will purge the darkness lurking in our capital!”

“Hurrah!”

The temple knights erupted in cheers, rallying behind Porisco as they moved toward their target—a grand building on the city’s outskirts.

The Cardenia Theological Society

The Cardenia Theological Society was ostensibly a group of devout individuals from various faiths who gathered to preach the will of the goddesses and serve the community.

Their reputation and location made them untouchable by most nobles, as they had spent years serving the capital’s impoverished residents. Their support base was vast, and any attack on them would risk a public outcry.

While most kingdoms, including Rutania, adhered to a strict separation of church and state, the Cardenia Theological Society’s influence made them a delicate target.

The only way to eliminate them without political repercussions was to use someone who had gained the public’s trust—someone both revered by the masses and backed by the church.

In the capital, only one person fit that description.

“Drag those heretics out immediately! Confiscate all their possessions and prepare the stakes for a grand execution! Hahaha!”

Porisco the False Saint cackled with glee as he gave the order.